


Now Only Ours

by filthybonnet



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Intrusive Thoughts, Oral Sex, Thoughts of Erik, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthybonnet/pseuds/filthybonnet
Summary: On their wedding night, Christine Daae, now Christine de Chagny anxiously awaits her husband's arrival at their bedroom chamber. However just when they thought they could leave the events of Opera Ghost behind them, Christine fears a secret will ruin her life with Raoul before it has even started. This is Leroux novel based but ALW fans can also enjoy it.





	Now Only Ours

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who know me, Raoul/Christine is not my thing at all. I am total Erik/Christine trash. 
> 
> However this is a gift to @sparklyscorpion for being such a lovely, kind phriend.

Christine de Chagny sat at her vanity in what was to be her marital bedroom. She looked down at the wedding band her childhood sweetheart put on her finger just that morning. She almost wrote a capital D when signing their marriage certificate; it was habit she would quickly learn to break. Her dress was simple and Raoul wore a black mourning ribbon tied around his arm for his brother; their only witnesses a few of his Navy friends and Madame Valerius. This was not the wedding Raoul had planned for his “Little Lotte” but it was the wedding thrust upon them due to the events below the opera house. 

Christine brushed her golden locks out as she observed the nightgown she bought for their wedding night. The plunging neckline and the cap sleeves both trimmed with delicate lace. It was a very thin white linen, almost sheer allowing the outline of her body to be seen. She already removed her pantalettes and stockings before putting on her dressing robe over it. _Will Raoul like this nightgown? Will he think it distasteful even for our wedding night? Will he think me too forward to have all my undergarments removed? Will he be able to tell?_

She dropped her hair brush and walked away from her vanity. A chill ran through her; she didn’t know if it was in her mind or because of her thin garments. The Soprano pulled her robe tighter and walked over to the fireplace in the room to warm herself. She rubbed her wedding band frantically. _He’s going to annul our marriage when he discovers; I will be ruined! I should have just stayed down there with **him** …_

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Mrs. de Chagny, may I enter now?” 

“Yes, come in,” She smiled at hearing Mrs. de Chagny in Raoul’s voice. She turned to see Raoul only in his slacks, suspenders and shirt close the door behind him. He smiled large as he sat the oil lamp he carried onto the night stand.

“Little Lotte, look at you,” he eagerly walked over and placed his hands on her dressing gowns tie. “May I?”

Christine nodded and Raoul swiftly undid the bow and eyed the gown up and down. “Oh Christine…I…” A pink flush came to his cheeks.

“It’s too much isn’t it? I knew it! I knew I wasn’t the girl for you!” She pulled the robe shut and stormed to the other side of the bed and sat down. 

“Christine no!” Raoul rushed to her side and sat down. “That is not it at all.” He took her hands into his. “I love it, I have just never seen so much of you and it’s overwhelming. I didn’t mean to scare my blushing bride. You are just as new to this as I am. We can take it as slow as you need.”

Pools of tears formed in her eyes, “Oh Raoul, your brother was right! I am not worthy of you!” 

The Viscount lifted one of his hands to her cheek, “Where is this coming from? I have heard some women can be nervous on their wedding night but you never struck me as that kind.” 

Christine closed her eyes and tears dripped down her cheeks, some onto Raoul’s hand. She took a deep breath and opened them, “A lot changed in my life before you came back into it.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And for while you were very hard headed when you came back into my life.”

“Christine, that is all behind us now.” He stroked her cheek, “We also went through so much together recently and we are here now, husband and wife ready to start anew.”

She removed his hand from her cheek and held them both tightly as if to make sure he would not run away. She was frantic, distressed. “It is because of this, because we are starting anew…I cannot hide this if we are to go forward. I am not pure, Raoul. I am not pure!” Christine threw herself against him and started crying, “You were so concerned about my purity. But I love you, Raoul. I didn’t want to say anything until we were married but now…”

He wrapped his arms around her, tears now in his eyes, “It was that monster wasn’t it? He forced himself on you?!” 

She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. _It would be so easy to say yes. Erik had turned into a monster, he tried to kill Raoul, Daroga and betrayed me. You can say yes and end it here…and spend your life with guilt._

Christine pulled away and looked into Raoul’s tearfilled eyes, her whole face now pink, “No. I did love him at one time, Raoul. And I was curious and he was…”

“Not another word!” The Viscount let go of her, stood up, faced away and took a few steps away from her. 

“I cannot apologize enough Raoul for not being able to be the chaste wife you deserve,” She wiped the tears from her cheeks as her words trembled. “I just hope you can see I love more than anyone I have ever loved and that it can be enough.”

Raoul sniffled as his thoughts raced. _I thought we would be leaving him behind. To learn he touched you on our wedding night…_

“Raoul, please I beg you!” She wrapped her arms around one of his. “What happened then doesn’t matter. I chose you, I married you…”

Mrs. de Chagny back away and dropped the dressing gown to the floor. The oil lamp on the night stand was behind her, turning her nightgown into a shadowbox, the bare curves of her body now in silhouette. The longer he stared, the faster Raoul felt his heart race and his cock firm. 

He returned to her, those tears now on his cheeks, “How can I be angry? You proved you loved me more than him by willing to sacrifice your life and spare not only mine but thousands of others. You have always been so curious, I cannot begrudge you that. But you also have always been so kind and selfless and full of joy.” Raoul placed his hand on his wife’s neck and slowly ran his fingers down her exposed décolletage. He ran the other down the side of her body resting it on her hip, “Did you pick this out for tonight?”

Christine nodded her head, “And for our honeymoon. I worried it was a little too unseemly but…”

“You chose it just for me to see you in it. I am so honored, Little Lotte,” Raoul leaned in and kissed his new bride with an enthusiasm he did not bother hide. 

He caressed her breast through the thin fabric and she sighed into his lips before pulling away, “Do you want me to take it off?”

“Take off your robe, Mrs. de Chagny,” his voice was firm. 

“Are you not angry…”

He turned around to face her, “Take off your robe.”

“No not yet,” he whispered removing his suspenders and letting them dangle around his waist. 

“Let me help you then,” She lifted her fingers to the top button of his shirt and delicately undid each one of them and untucked the shirt. She played with his chest hair, heat radiating off his skin. “That lanky boy of my youth filled out into such a handsome man.” Christine pushed her hands up around his shoulders before kissing him. As their kiss became deeper, she pushed the shirt down his arms and back.

Raoul pulled away with a slight moan, “May we move to the bed?”

Christine turned down the sheets before and situated herself on the bed until she was propped up on the pillows.

“Look at your hair, a golden waterfall,” Raoul frantically fumbled at undoing his slacks.

She giggled as she observed him push pants to the ground and stepped out of them. Drawers, socks and garters still in place, Raoul got onto the bed. On hands and knees, he crawled on top of her.

“Vicomtesse,” Raoul smiled before he leaned in his lips meeting hers. He pushed the sheer fabric of the nightgown aside and grouped her breast. The tips of his fingers kneaded into her skin, his palm barely brushing that tight tender bulb.

Christine pushed up into his hand and pulled away from his lips, “There is another area there that would love your touch.”

He chuckled, “Is that so, Little Lotte?” Raoul sat up on his knees, between her legs, gently pushing her nightgown up above her stomach. He gasped as caught his first sight of light brown downy surrounding luscious slick womanhood. He brushed his index finger up and down lips he had never seen or touched before and Christine gasped. 

“Here, darling,” she took his hand and gently guided his finger to the top where all those perplexing pink folds met.

Here he found a little firm mound also slick. His already flush face turned a deeper shade of pink. _That…that monster taught her about this didn’t he?!? Turned her into a wanton woman! We were supposed to learn things together!_

“Raoul?” She caressed his wrist bringing him out of his thoughts.

_I’ll show him! I’ll show her!_ He smiled as he pushed into that little flesh mound. He pulled back releasing the pressure only to press back in, “There?”

“Yes…yes, there,” She gripped his wrist making sure nothing moved. Her eyes closed as sighs escaped her lips. The Viscount licked as lips as he watched his Vicomtesse’s hips rock gently against his finger.

“More, darling…” her hand traveled down from his wrist to his finger and made it move it in a circle. “Like that and faster. Please your Christine.” She was so close to her apex but Raoul despite being so eager was not listening to her body and therefore not responding.

Raoul felt some fluid leak from his cock and form a wet spot on his drawers. His own yearning grew as he watched Christine squirm and whimper under his touch. However, that choice of words, took him a bit back. He pulled his hand away from her and brought both to the tie that kept his drawer around his waist. He untied them and pushed them down just below his behind. “I cannot wait anymore Christine, I want pleasure too.”

She observed his ridged member as he crawled on top of her; its light-colored hair, pink, unassuming everything a man and a proper husband _should_ be. Raoul guided himself into her and groaned; never in his wildest dreams could he have imaged the secrets of a woman could be so warm, so wet, so encompassing and so capable of causing so much joy.

“Oh Christine!” There were tears in his eyes as he gently thrust in and out of her. “You feel so wonderful!”

The Soprano lifted her legs off the mattress and wrapped them around her husband’s waist, her heels digging into his plump behind. _Oh how different he feels inside me…not nearly as full as him. No! You love Raoul! No such thoughts in your marital bed on your wedding night!_

Raoul kissed her neck before returning to groans and pants. Christine rocked with him, her husband responded by pushing in back and forth faster. She sprinted closer to that edge, and found her breath coming out in pants. _Oh to fall off that edge, I need it._

“Darling deeper please!” She begged digging her nails into his scalp.

He paused. “What?”

She seized his cheeks, feeling the sweat drip down his forehead and pulled her face close hers, “Go deeper inside me.”

“I…I..” He kissed her for he had no response and thrust again.

The Soprano tightened and released around his manhood; her toes were dangling off the edge when a visceral gurgle escaped his mouth. He stopped thrusting and gently laid down on top of Christine. She knew he reached his climax; she held back her tears and instead smiled having never seen Raoul look so relaxed, so at peace since he had returned into her life. He was heavier on her small frame compared to the lithe man made of death. That man made of death that made sure she always had her little death; often killing her a couple times before he had his own. 

She sighed and spoke hoping to push the terrible, intrusive thought away, “I love you, Raoul.”

“Little Lotte, I love you too. I never knew such pleasure was possible. And it is now only ours, only ours.”

She felt him withdraw, their mixed juices trickle slightly from her. _I’m sorry, Raoul. I’m sorry none of that is from my maidenhead._

He pulled his drawers back up and she pushed her nightgown back down, before he pulled her into his arms. 

She nuzzled into his chest, the hair now matted down with sweat, “I am not ready to go to sleep. Are you? It is our Wedding Night after all and…”

“Did I not please you, Christine?” He sat up, “Oh I failed you as a husband! I am so sorry!” His face flushed and he covered it with his hands. _That…that **thing** was able to satisfy her and I was not! She was thinking of him the whole time wasn’t she? Oh I cannot do this! I cannot have a tainted wife that I can never please!_

The Vicomtesse knew she had to say something. She could tell his mind was racing with thoughts of her in The Opera Ghost’s arms. _The past in our bed is no way to start our marriage. I cannot have Raoul trying to live up to something the rest of our lives. God forgive me for having **him** even cross my mind tonight. I only told him tonight because I wanted no secrets._

“Raoul, you haven’t failed,” she sat up and embraced him. She then pulled his hands away from his face and wiped away the tears, “It’s just that we’re both new to each other as man and wife. We have a lifetime together, the sooner we learn together the longer we can enjoy it.”

Viscount’s eyes lit up. _We can learn together! A lifetime together. Oh how could I doubt my new bride?_ He tugged at her nightgown at her waist pulling it up over her body and tossing it to the floor. 

“My brother, God rest his soul, once spoke of a trick that ladies found pure bliss. He insisted it kept them loyal and he told me about it when he thought I was going to be a man about the town like him. I do not see why it could also bring woman who is already loyal pure bliss.”

Christine tilted her head and looked at her husband. His brother had a bit of a reputation and was not sure anything he would suggest would be on the up and up. 

“Lay back down.”

Christine obeyed her husband and found him pushing her legs open and his smiling face sinking down between them. She knew all about this trick indeed. She’d even heard about it from backstage from many of the ballerinas long before she’d first experienced it.

The point of Raoul’s tongue traced her folds, his saliva adding to her wetness. She closed her eyes and sighed. Oh, he was so eager his mouth moving fast, his lips sucking loud on that pleasure mound. Christine grabbed at the pillows, her toes curling, whimpers and gasps escaping her mouth. “Oh Raoul…there…” She lifted her lower half off the bed pushing her womanhood into him.

“Hmmmh” The man made a muffled noise as he moved his hands to hold onto her waist. He lowered his mouth his tongue quickly going in and out lapping at her juices, gathering some of his in the process. However, he pushed on learning what made his new bride moan. 

The edge was there again for The Soprano. She was ready to fall, she knew Raoul could push her off. “Up…up…”

The bridegroom moved his mouth back up to that plump bud and rolled the tip of his tongue around it before sucking on it. The Soprano cried out as her husband pushed her off the edge. Her womanhood quivered against Raoul’s face, her legs shook as her cries came out in gasps. Christine collapsed to the bed, her paroxysm now rolling up her spine and the rest of her body. 

Raoul’s wiped her moisture from his face as he grinned at his spent wife. After a few moments he curled up beside her.

“What a lovely trick, Raoul,” Christine whispered breathless, again playing with his chest hair. “I hope it is one you continue. Perhaps I can learn a similar trick during our honeymoon. Not tonight; I am ready to sleep. Are you?” She leaned over the bed, retrieved her night gown and put it back on. 

Mr. de Chagny turned the oil lamp off, pulled the covers up over them before pulling Mrs. de Chagny into his arms. The only glow now came from the embers of the dying fire. 

“Perhaps in the morning we can try a few of those little tricks before a proper coupling,” Raoul whispered into her ear. “It is now only ours after all.”


End file.
